The Interviews
by Azecreth
Summary: The mind of a serial killer is a dangerous place, as Sayaka was about to discover. And still she made the plunge, for the sake of thoroughness. Perhaps she'd made a mistake, but there was no turning back now.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, another story. I must hate myself or something. This is definitely an experiment of sorts into different writing styles on my part, so I apologize if it's terrible. Also, rating may be subject to change depending on how visceral I want to get.**

**Credit to A Nutcracker's Padded Cell, by Timmy Sparx for this story. Even if his story is incredibly different from mine.**

**Feel free to comment or complain, and let me know how bad this is, or if I'm just being my own worst critic.**

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I remember our first meeting well. It was Wednesday, near noon. Springtime in the city of Mitakihara. A nice day, and one I'd prefer to spend outside relaxing, rather than the task I had to do that particular day. But I had a job to do, and I was not one to shirk responsibility. Most of the time anyway.

The name is Sayaka Miki, investigative reporter for the _Mitakihara Star_. Not what I expected to be doing with my life, but it's a good job. Flexible hours, travel points at hotels, even if there are annoying deadlines. I'd always had a penchant for truth, justice, the kind of stuff you'd see a shounen manga protagonist spouting, ever since I was little. I'd thought about bring a cop and going into law enforcement, but in the end I settled for journalism, where I could draw the publics attention to problems and promote action.

At that specific time though, I was on assignment. I'd been able to choose my topic for once, and this one had been an easy selection. It didn't involve corruption, or the government, or poverty. Nah, this was something a lot more interesting.

It was a bit of a trip, I will admit, to get to my subject of investigation, but that was all the better. It gave me time to plan ahead as I drove towards this meeting. I had done some preliminary research, and it was a well known case, but I wanted to go in with an open mind. If there was one thing that had been hammered into me, it was that I couldn't be biased. Which, needless to say, was difficult, given my line of work and personality, but I tried.

Emphasis on the tried part. When dealing with slimy politicians and lowlife criminals, it kinda gets to you. But I can rightfully say that some of my greatest work has been done in fits of righteous indignation. Nothing like a dash of vitriol to really accentuate a piece. Not that my editor agrees all that much.

Anyways, that's enough about my career for now. Essentially, a major bust against a construction company cutting corners when it came to workplace safety so they could turn more of a profit had given me the opportunity to pursue a story of my own choosing. And you had better believe that I was going to take it.

After battling traffic through the city, with no small amount of anger directed at general humanity represented by idiots driving motor vehicles, I arrived at my destination, the North Shinkaru Mental Institute for the Criminally Insane, a pretty long and fancy name for what was essentially the loony bin. And surprisingly, I was there to meet with a patient, and not to investigate the staff, or even to try and get myself admitted. I know, weird. But I had a good reason.

Pulling into the parking lot, I chose a spot near the entrance and stopped the car there. I took a moment to check my appearance, short blue hair, suit, very much the dashing, crusading reporter. I nodded to myself, then picked up my satchel bag and left the car, locking it behind me before I headed inside the building.

The front lobby was remarkably mundane for the stuff that went on inside. Chairs, pale yellow walls, a single entryway, there wasn't much that gave off an impression of homeliness. Then again, they probably had their budget to worry about, and they weren't there to cater to visitors. As one might figure out from the current lack of visitors besides me. But each detail I noted with a careful eye.

Guessing that there was no wait, I strode forward and right up to the front desk. "Sayaka Miki," I told the man working there, presenting my ID at the same time. "I called earlier about a meeting with one of the inmates."

The man sighed as he straightened up, turning to the documents that laid in front of him. I waited with my time tested patience as he looked through them, shifting his gaze between that and my ID. Apparently he wasn't hired for his efficiency.

At last though he seemed satisfied with the fact that I was who I said I was, and good riddance to that. "Okay. Just sign here please," he replied as he handed across a sign in sheet and a pen, wearing an ambivalent expression.

With a slight huff, I took it and signed on the line, and dated it, with minimal fuss and hassle to be had. He watched me with disinterest, and accepted it once I passed the sheet and writing implement back. That was followed by him looking it over to confirm that I'd filled everything out correctly, which apparently was that difficult for some people.

"Alright, everything seems to be in order," he said, pointing out the obvious. "I'll let them know you're here."

"Well good," I replied, hand resting on my hip. "I don't want to spend more time on this than I have to."

He didn't answer that from behind the reinforced glass window, giving me a look of apparent exasperation, before picking up the phone on his desk. "Sir, I have a Sayaka Miki here. Could you get her guest ready?"

As you might have guessed by now, dealing with bureaucracy isn't my thing. That was a reason against my joining law enforcement, since they have a lot of paperwork to deal with, or so I'm told. Suffice to say, it was a test to just stand there as he conversed with his superiors. Yeah, I know they have their own issues, such as liability and all that, but that doesn't make it any less boring.

Eventually they worked out whatever they needed to, and the man left the booth he was seated in, someone quickly taking his place as a buzz filled the room and the lock on the nearby door disengaged. I moved over to it as he swung the metal barrier open, allowing me to enter the facility. "Right this way," he said, leading me further into the building.

My nervous anticipation grew as we walked along through concrete halls, each step taking me closer to my meeting. Not that I particularly wanted to meet anyone here, but good stories weren't made by what I wanted. The general atmosphere of the place wasn't helping my desire, but I shrugged it off and persevered. I'd seen worse.

The man, brown hair, blue shirt, black pants, a belt on which keys were attached, looked over his shoulder at me as we went along. "Don't know why you'd want to see the Death Hostess," he commented as we rounded another corner. "I doubt she'll give you anything interesting."

"I'll worry about that myself, if you don't mind," I replied confidently, advancing past other guards and employees that were going about their own business. I didn't need someone to tell me what my odds of success were. I'd had enough of that over the years to last me a lifetime.

He shrugged then and let the matter drop, which was good timing as it turned out, since I found myself distracted by my surroundings. Muffled by metal doors in containment, I could hear rambling, singing, the sounds of broken minds, of the insane. And if I looked, I could see those people, with visual tics, drawing scribbles, jittery limbs, people locked in rooms. Then again, given where I was, this shouldn't really have been a surprise.

It definitely stirred some sympathy from me, but at the same time I had to remember that not all of hem deserved it. There were criminals in here who had done horrible things, and they didn't deserve any sympathy for their current state. Sure, maybe I was being a bit judgmental since I couldn't empathize with their plight as a sane, rational, non-murdering and productive member of society, but that was just how it went. Besides, seeing and hearing it all was starting to creep me out.

At last we arrived at our destination inside, some sort of small cafeteria which provided a bit of space. Tables were laid out in rows, but the room was otherwise empty. Looking up above, I could see guards on an overlooking balcony, watching the area in their lines of sight. For my part, I only hoped that they were more attentive than the guy working up front had been. I didn't want to tempt fate with a psycho.

"Please sit here, it should only be a few more moments." With that my guide departed, leaving me alone. Placing my bag off to the side, I did as he said and sat down to wait. It was a boring interlude, but at least I didn't have to listen to raving lunatics if I didn't make the effort to. It gave me the time I needed to compose my thoughts for this interview, to get informative answers from my subject any way possible.

It was only a few minutes later, as he had said it would be, that there was another buzz, the sound of a lock disengaging, and I looked over to the side to see one of the metal doors swinging open, admitting an inmate and two guards. I shifted in my seat, and my breath caught as I got my first sight of her, recognition near immediate.

Short blond hair hung down as she walked forward, nearly swaying on her feet, limbs wrapped in the restraining white fabric of a straitjacket, which didn't help her appearance. Surprisingly, at least to me, she wore a pleasant smile, and there was no aura of insanity like I'd expected. Then again, appearances could be deceiving. They were, in fact, or she probably wouldn't be here.

Serial killer Mami Tomoe, aka the 'Death Hostess', known for a string of murders in Mitakihara several months ago. It had only been a slip up on her part that had resulted in her being caught, where they had sent her here as the result of a successful insanity plea. At this point, authorities weren't even sure that they'd found everyone she had killed.

I stood then, as she crossed the distance between the door and me, with guards escorting. "Hello."

"Hello," Mami replied, bowing in the process. "You must be Sayaka Miki. It's a pleasure to meet you in person."

I wouldn't say it was a pleasure on my part, since it wasn't, but I wasn't going to tell her that. Instead, I sat down, and with a gesture, Mami did the same, the guards behind her backing off to give us a bit of privacy. "My apologies for not shaking your hand, but I've been forced to wear this ever since I stabbed my therapist in the eye with his pencil."

Okay, I will admit, I was caught off guard by the way she said that with such a straight face, and it showed as I stared at her. Not exactly the kind of thing you want to hear, even if it's from a serial killer psycho. I could only hope the poor guy was alright. "It's fine," I replied at last, looking away.

Then, as if to accentuate how many screws she had loose, she laughed. Well, chuckled actually, but you get the point. "Don't worry. If you knew him like I did then you'd agree that I was doing the world a favor."

"Somehow I doubt that," I muttered under my breath, not about to argue with the crazy lady. That'd be a waste of time, and I wanted to keep from antagonizing her. That would be a quick way to end the interview, and I also wanted to be able to sleep later.

Leaving aside the discussion of pointless stabbings, I pulled a notebook from my bag and placed it on the table, so I could write down notes, and a pen, which I deliberately kept as far away from Mami as possible, for my own peace of mind. "So, to start, I'm going to go over some basic facts. Tell me if I got something wrong."

Mami nodded, and I took that as a sign to continue. "Name, Mami Tomoe. Age, 25. Only child, lived in Mitakihara your whole life. Both parents deceased, college drop out."

I glanced up, and she nodded. "Yes, that's correct."

"Upper middle class financially, no record of criminal activity before...well, you know. Good regard from your peers before, again,...you know."

"It's okay, you can say the word 'murder'," Mami interrupted. "I'm not going to bite your head off. And I doubt the guards would let me get that far." She glanced over her shoulder at the armed men, who didn't respond to her verbal prompt. Good on them.

"Right..." As I finished, I prepared to write. "So tell me, how does a well off person like you become a homicidal maniac?"

A sigh escaped then, rising over the sound of shifting fabric as she attempted to move the sleeves of her straitjacket. "You don't ask an easy question," Mami noted. "Though your statement also implies that I'm insane, which is far from the case. I was fully aware of what I did at the time I did it, before, during, and afterwards."

That was an intriguing look into her thought process, which I noted as an eyebrow rose in a visible expression of that. "So why the insanity defense then? If you're not actually insane."

It was easy to pick out the rise in the corners of her mouth as she answered that question. "Because I prefer being alive to being dead. Even if being in here consigns me to a meaningless existence, it's better than what must come after, if there is anything."

"I see," I replied as I wrote that tidbit down. Some insight into the way her twisted mind worked? Definitely. But I would need more I could draw any conclusions there. "So why then? Why kill those people?"

"A long time ago there was a little girl," she said, tone almost singsong in intonation. "One day, she broke. But no one noticed. So eventually, she decided to make them notice. And I did. You can't argue with that." Prefaced by a shrug, I got the impression that I wasn't going to get a real answer. But it never hurt to try.

And given the media spectacle involved with the whole thing, no, I couldn't argue. "Let me guess, that was when your parents died?' Car crash, tragic. You'd wonder why no one ever considered a therapist or something before she got to the brutal murder stage.

"If you say so," she replied in an almost coy manner, yet dismissive at the same time.

I showed my opinion in an attempt at a piercing look that deflected right off her exterior, before going on. "After dropping out of college you worked at a tea shop, where your boss said you were a model employee. And yet you also killed your first victims with poisoned tea. Why? Seems like a good way to draw attention to yourself."

The pleasant smile she had been wearing endured as she answered me without hesitation, like she was discussing the weather. "It reminded me of an earlier time, and killing people is a lot easier when they don't have a chance to try and run, or fight back. And at least I gave them a peaceful death, like falling asleep and never waking up."

I couldn't help but glare at her then, pausing while in the middle of writing things down, much as I might not want to. "Good to know that killing people reminded you of your childhood."

"I never said it did. You really shouldn't leap to conclusions Ms. Miki. Isn't that a rule of your profession?"

I suppressed a growl, or any unfavorable reaction beyond a more forceful scribbling with my pen, to deal with my temper. "Yes, it is," I confirmed, not happy at the moment. "Anyway, how do you go from poison to carving holes in people's chests? Was it not bloody enough for you?"

"Poison just wasn't visual enough. I wanted to leave more of a mark," Mami said with a slight giggle. "As a firebrand reporter, I'm sure you understand that desire."

If I hadn't been getting red flags before, I most definitely was now. Her comparing what she did to my own profession was more than enough to reaffirm that she was nuts. A part of me wanted to call it quits right then and there, but my rational side kept me seated. I had to see this to the end, for posterity, and my own ego, though not necessarily for my sanity. But such was the price of thoroughness.

"I prefer to leave a lot less blood when I make a point. Just my own opinion. Hope it's not a problem."

"Of course not. To each their own. Sadly, I won't be making any more marks from inside these walls." Yeah, a real shame there, I noted to myself with wordless sarcasm as I wrote it down regardless. A languid sigh came out then. "Any other questions or comments on my life preceding my incarceration here? I could provide you details on how each exploit went. There are a few that I'm quite proud of, veritable works of art. It'd be tragic to let that be lost."

I repressed a shiver at the mix of satisfaction and my own imagination. No way was I going to sit here listening to her describe how she had killed people in detail. There were some things even I didn't need to know, at least at the time. "No thanks. Though, you wouldn't happen to have any other bodies lying around that the cops might have missed, would you?"

Mami hummed in thought, head tilted, and I waited patiently for the response. "Perhaps," she eventually concluded, much to my dissatisfaction. "I didn't keep a list. But I suppose they did." Her smile widened then. "We'll just have to wait and see."

That, as you might guess, was not encouraging, but at this point I had no choice but to believe her. So, onwards I went. "Okay then. I'm also going to assume that means you don't regret it."

"My only regret is getting caught. It would have meant more time for my work, to get my message across to the people."

"There was a message," I asked skeptically and incredulously. Far be it for me to see a message in a bunch of mutilated corpses, but then again I didn't have her brand of lunacy.

She got a glimmer in her eye as she smirked. "If you can't see the message, then it wasn't intended for you."

That led to a natural follow up on my part, with aggravation under control, at least for the moment. "And who was it intended for?"

Her smirk didn't lessen, and it seemed that I would get nothing useful. "That's for me to know, and I don't feel like sharing at the moment," she replied cryptically.

A grunt issued forth in exchange for a growl, as I registered that answer, the one I probably should have expected. It seemed that I would need to plan a return visit or something like that. Especially if she was going to try and hold out or play games with me.

At the time, I did consider the thought that this was Mami's intent, to spoon feed me information and otherwise mess with me so she'd have something to do. I mean, it was so obvious a ploy even I couldn't miss it, and I'm not known for my subtlety. But as it was, I had to go along with it if I wanted my story to be top quality. Some day, you people will appreciate the sacrifices I've made in the name of journalism.

Anyway, I was forced to accept that, lacking any other options. "Alright then." I took a moment to look back over my notes and get a sense of the conversation thus far, before going on. "Now, how'd you manage to dodge social services? After your parents died, I mean." That would probably have prevented a lot of problems if it had happened.

"My uncle looked after me for a bit. After that, I suppose we can just blame the system for that." that was not too comforting, though it wasn't exactly unusual either. I'd seen as much in my earlier work, and I gave a quick thought to the multitude of people like Mami there might be out there, before returning to the matter at hand.

"Alright," I replied, writing that down and resolving to look into that later.

That basically exhausted my major questions, the ones that I had, and while I did ask a few more things, there was nothing of true consequence that was said. I'd still have to come back for a follow up visit, but on the while I was decently satisfied with how things went, besides Mami's efforts to creep me out.

"Well, that's that," I concluded as I began to pack up. "Thanks for the help and all." Such as it was. I was still convinced that she was a nut, but at least she was willing to talk to me, so that was a plus.

"Of course," she replied as she rose from her seat, smile unwavering. "I don't have much else to do. And it's nice to have someone listen to me for once. At least, someone here of their own free will." She winked, a gesture I ignored.

I stayed where I was as the guards approached once more, leading Mami Tomoe back to whatever padded room they had her locked away in. And I was shedding no tears as she departed. She deserved it after all.

A minute or so later, another attendant showed up to lead me out of the cafeteria and back up front, along the path we had taken before to get there in the first place. "I hope she behaved herself," he said as we went along. "She's caused trouble before, and we don't want it happening again."

I nodded as I walked along. "She did. But she's totally crazy."

"Don't have to tell me twice," he snorted. "She's like a spider or something. All smiles and acting nice, and at the same time she's describing what she'd like to do to you if she weren't locked up, or talking with one of her victims. Creepy as hell."

"Yeah," I agreed without a second thought. I could easily see that, and I was glad that I did not have to be that guy, since it seemed like his job sucked.

Back at the entrance to the building, I considered setting up another appointment while I was here, but decided against it. I needed some time to organize my thoughts and subjects, what I had learned and what I still needed to learn if my story were to be up to my standards. So I'd do that later. It wasn't like I was in a rush or anything.

"Have a nice day," the attendant said from behind his desk as I passed through the metal door and into the front lobby. It was just as empty as before, even with the time that had passed while I was in there.

"Yeah, thanks," I called back over my shoulder before leaving with all due haste. I'd done what I came to do, and there was no reason to stick around longer than necessary.

It was a quick walk back to my blue sports car in the parking lot, right where I had left it. Bag placed once more in the passengers seat, I started the engine, pulled out, and began the drive back to my apartment. I lived downtown, where it was easier to commute, and I didn't have to deal with the hassle of taking care of an entire house in addition to all the traveling I do.

En route, my phone rang, an unexpected call that I wouldn't refuse once I saw who it was on the line. I tabbed the 'receive call' button on the dashboard, already smiling as I spoke. "Hey Kyosuke, how's it going?"

"Hi Sayaka," he replied, the sound of musical instruments warming up threatening to overwhelm him in the background. "I'm doing alright. Is this a bad time?"

"Nah. Just got done with an interview for a story, so I'm all yours. What is it?"

Speaking above his musical companions, he relayed some news that made my smile all the wider, my recent experience forgotten for the moment. "Oh, well, I just thought you should know that I'm going to be in town for a break between tours in a week or so. Figured we could do something in the meanwhile."

That I did, and wanted to. The two of us had had an on-again off-again relationship for a while to that point, but I didn't mind. He was busy with his music, I with my work, and I'd moved past the insatiable, forlorn crush that had defined my early relationship with him. I wasn't sure if there would be a ring in the future, but at that moment just getting the chance to see him would be worth it.

"That's great. I'll clear my schedule," I replied, hoping my excitement wasn't too evident over the phone. "Good luck at your concert. We can talk more later."

"Right." I couldn't speak for my own emotions, but I could sense the relief in his tone, and I sighed aloud, figuring the noise on his end would mask it. I swear, sometimes I think he's more in love with his violin than h ever could be with a woman. "Talk to you later. Bye."

"Bye," I answered in turn, before the sound of someone else talking, presumably another member of the orchestra, made itself heard and the line went dead. Grinning, I shook my head at my hopeless friend, and made a mental note to clear my calendar when Kyosuke would be in town. Work could wait.

Upon arriving at my apartment, I placed my bag off to the side and took my shoes off before getting to work reviewing notes and planning out my follow up interview. It hadn't been difficult thus far, and I'd made good progress, but I had to be careful. She was going to try and mess with me, and I would be ready for it when it happened. I also sent a report off to my editor to indicate my progress at the same time.

Little did I know, the rabbit hole I'd started down went a lot deeper than I thought. And this mystery would not be easily solved. But nonetheless, I made the plunge. Only time would tell where I ended up.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Huzzah, the experiment, and the madness, continues. Enjoy. I don't do this sort of thing often so it's a different experience for me. But as long as the audience likes it, it's alright.**

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Sometimes I think I'm a masochist.

I don't mean in any sort of weird, deviant sexual way. God no. Tried it once, didn't like it. I might be a risk taker, but pain for the sake of pain isn't my thing,

What I mean is more my personality, I guess. Call it the rush, but I just keep throwing myself into dangerous situations, flirting with disaster on a regular basis, and tossing out any opportunities to stop. Gang wars, natural disasters, that sort of thing.

I suppose that's why I went back for another interview with Mami Tomoe. There was no reason to do so. The first one had given me some indication of her personality, and I could certainly look up the other relevant facts of the case to make an article my editor would accept. I had no incentive to return there

And yet I headed there anyway, like a moth to a flame looking to be burned. I wanted to know more, to understand, and meeting her in person was the only way to do that, no matter the danger involved. Besides, she was in an institution in a straitjacket. She couldn't hurt me.

So in compliance with my natural instincts, I prepared for my return to that place, to her. And no, I don't need you to tell me that it was a stupid idea. I already knew that at the time, and it didn't dissuade me.

My next meeting with her was after Kyosuke left town for another tour, a period of time that had been spent in candlelight dinners, scenic locales, and other things I'd rather not relate here that left me with plenty of pleasant memories. Needless to say, I was in no hurry to get back there.

But the time for my next meeting soon arrived. Naturally, I prepared for it. More documents, pictures, and I charted out what I wanted to come from this meeting. I wanted to learn more about her as a person, to get into her head and to get her to trust me. Cultivating relationships was a big part of the job and even if she'd lost her marbles in a Force 5 tornado, I was confident that I could do it.

Then once more I found myself headed to the Mental Institute. Well combed blue hair, sunglasses to counter the glare from above, jeans, and a vanilla shirt were my attire as I drove down busy streets, mentally preparing myself.

As it turned out the parking lot was as empty as it had been the first time, though there were a few more cars this go around. Presumably those were visitors rather than staff, not that it was any concern of mine. Parked, I did a last check of myself. My notes, my appearance, everything I needed. I was all set to go.

With confident strides I made my way inside and to the front desk. It was a different guy there this time, and at least he was paying attention when I came to a stop. As you might imagine it left a much better impression as a whole.

"Sayaka Miki," I said, passing over my ID as I introduced myself. "I made an appointment earlier to speak with Mami Tomoe."

The man nodded as he looked at the ID before confirming the appointment with the system, then handing it back over to me. "Ah yes. I'll let them know you're here."

I waited patiently, much less annoyed this time than the last occasion as he got on the phone to call his superior. This took a few moments as they arranged the transfer to the visitation area where I could meet my interviewee, then hung up.

"Alright then, she'll be ready shortly. If you'll follow the man behind the door, he'll take you to the meeting area." A buzzer rang and the door unlocked, allowing me entry as it had before.

I nodded, flashing him a grin. "Thanks," I said as I opened the door and stepped inside. Just within I found the guard I had met before on my first visit, and I gave him another nod as the door swung shut behind me, and we met each others gaze.

"Didn't think I'd see you back here," he admitted after a moment, grudging and yet impressed. "She doesn't get return visitors."

I shrugged, nonplussed by the statement. I got a lot, as you might guess. "What can I say? I'm a trend breaker," I replied nonchalantly. Not that it actually mattered, but it made an excuse. I followed it up with a gesture, waving down the hall. "Well, lead the way."

He rolled his eyes before turning and taking me down cement corridors once more. There were the same sounds and similar sights, but I wasn't as spooked as last time since I knew what was coming. It was a small comfort but every bit helped in the end.

As we walked along, he spoke up again, glancing over at me at the same time. "She's been acting weird since you last visited; I'd be careful. She's probably planning something."

"Don't worry. I can handle anything she might try," I replied calmly. I was pretty confident in my ability to handle anything given that she was, y'know, in an asylum. It kinda limited her options, understandably.

The guy shrugged. "Just thought you should know." Well, the sentiment was nice, but ultimately unnecessary.

At last we arrived, ending up at the cafeteria again, and I was escorted in and sat down before he left. There I was made to wait, running over my mental checklist one last time before this began. That was easy enough, and soon it was just tapping my fingers on the table as I eyed the door.

Eventually she arrived, hair a bit ragged, body a bit sweaty. It appeared there had been something of a struggle, though obviously not enough of one if they were still allowing her to attend this interview.

In spite of her appearance, she still walked with a composed gait and a smile that would have warmed had I not known the extent of the batshit crazy behind it. She came to a stop across from me and bowed, all she could do with the strait jacket she currently wore.

"Apologies for being late," she said with seeming sincerity. "Nagisa was being a handful today."

"It's fine," I replied with a dismissive wave, motioning for her to sit down then. Meanwhile, my mind worked. Nagisa? Presumably a roommate or something. But Mami was in a strait jacket and had stabbed someone, if she was to be believed. Would they even allow her a roommate?

There wasn't really any more time to talk about that though as the restrained blond sat down across from me, still wearing that chillingly pleasant smile. "So, what was it you wanted to speak about?"

I returned my attention to the matter at hand as I relaxed in my seat, twirling a pen amidst my fingers as I answered her question. "Not much. You, again. Whatever you feel like talking about really."

Mami hummed as she thought about that, and presumably what to say. It was a lyrical melody that I didn't know, so I had to assume that it was one she made up and not an actual song. "What's there to say? My time here is fairly mundane. Talking with my therapist, a bit of supervised exercise, three square meals, and plenty of time by myself. Oh, and the medications." She leaned in then, voice dropping to a whisper as if imparting some important secret. "To be honest, my cooking is a lot better than the food they make here. But don't tell them that."

"Your secret's safe with me," I replied with all honesty. I certainly had no motivation to impart the opinions of an inmate to the cooking staff. They probably wouldn't much care for it either.

Mami sat back then, sighing aloud before swinging into an entirely unexpected question. "Tell me Sayaka, do you believe in God?"

"Huh?" I froze for a brief moment, trying to confirm that she had asked what I thought she had asked. Well, getting asked about my faith by a serial killer had not been something I had anticipated. Then again, maybe she'd turned a new leaf while serving out life here. Or not. "Um, yeah, I guess I do."

She got the barest hints of a frown as she looked at me. "Even with all the things that happen in the world, even with what I did, you still believe that there's a greater power watching over us all?"

I nodded quickly in return. "Well, yeah. I mean, I'd like to imagine that there's somebody up there to make sure that all the stuff that happens to people is worth it." Which felt weird for me to say, but that was the truth. Why suffer if there was no payoff for it?

She chuckled then, making it all too evident that I had fallen into a trap of some kind. Somehow, not surprising. "I knew a girl once who lost her entire family. A double murder suicide. She was out stealing food, in spite of what her father wanted. And when she came back they were all dead. She survived because she sinned."

Her laughter intensified as she nearly doubled over. "How can it be called 'just' or 'fair', when the only reason she lived is because she did the thing that God said she wasn't supposed to do. And how can you claim there's some great reward when her father was a man of God himself?"

Realization clicked in my head all of a sudden as I recalled who she was talking about. I'd seen the census forms, and done some digging in relation to them, and now I followed on it. "How am I supposed to know? I'm not a theologian," I admitted. "But since we're on that subject, how about you tell me about your friend? You and Ms. Sakura lived together for a couple years, didn't you?"

Mami's laughter died away, and she tilted her head in feigned confusion. "Excuse me? I don't know who you're talking about."

From the way she was looking at me, and my own research, I knew she was just screwing with me though. "Oh you know, Kyoko Sakura, redhead, father was a pastor. Government records say the two of you lived together. Ringing any bells?"

The innocent look vanished as she turned a calculating gaze on me next, which I shrugged off as a matter of course. "Ah yes, that Kyoko Sakura. We did spend a few years together, though it was not the most amicable relationship. She had terrible manners, was insatiably hungry, and could not be relied whatsoever to do chores."

I could have sworn that I saw the ghost of sadness in her eyes, though if it were there it rapidly vanished. But it was something to note even if it was only gut instinct. "If it was so terrible, then why put up with each other for so long?" You didn't spend a few years with a roommate you hated, much less become their legal guardian.

Mami shrugged, fabric rippling with the rise of her shoulders. "I'm a charitous soul. I felt bad for her since she was homeless and living on the street."

A snort involuntarily escaped before I could clamp down on it. "Tell that to the people you killed."

If she took offense at that she didn't show it. That was something I had to be grateful for, though she diverted from the subject to answer as she answered. "But I was. I provided them the best service that I could. Now they don't have to suffer loss in this life."

A piercing glare followed on the heels of that, from me to her, as I looked on her sceptically. "Really? And how exactly is that supposed to work?" Murder and charity did not compute in my justice minded brain. Then again, Mami was probably making some leap of logic that I couldn't comprehend.

I had the feeling that she would be doing something to distract herself, for all of a sudden she seemed to find the discussion boring. "Isn't that obvious? Hope and despair balance out to zero. I was just doing my part to even out the equation on God's behalf."

That was something written down, though I frowned at the same time. "What? How's that supposed to work. Those are emotions, not numbers. You can't exactly balance them."

"It's realism," Mami said in return. "For every good thing that happens, something bad will happen in return. The law of equivalent exchange as it were. I'm just acting as the other part of that."

Another skeptical look on my part, as you might expect from someone talking with a crazy person whom I really should have stopped baiting when I had the chance. At least for the sake of the story if not my own sanity. "That's a law of physics. I don't think you can apply it to social life, you know."

"Whatever you say," Mami replied in a sing-song tone. It seemed that it didn't matter for her, which I was not totally surprised by. Cold hard logic will tend to do that when it meets a sea of crazy.

All of a sudden she leaned forward once more, her gaze drifting away from me and upwards. She frowned, her face seeming to darken in the light. Which was a tad alarming, at least from my position as I wondered what she was doing.

As quickly, her face shifted into a warm smile as she sat back and giggled. "Bebe, you can't eat her. Her head isn't made of cheese."

That statement explained a lot, though I didn't know who 'Bebe' was supposed to be. I hadn't been aware that she suffered from delusional hallucinations, though I probably should have before this point. It was the sort of thing that really made a difference when you were interviewing people.

She went on regardless of my own evident disbelief. "Feel free to stop her if you want. Those teeth of hers are sharp, and I would hate for you to be hurt when we're having such fun."

'Fun' was a subjective term, and one I was not experiencing at the moment, but I was not going to make an issue of it. "Nah, I'm fine," I replied, motivated by the distinct lack of fangs biting my head.

"If you say so," Mami ceded without complaint. That was good, though she kept giving the air above my head odd looks. I wasn't going to devote any imagination to figuring out what she was imagining, so I left it alone.

I paused for a moment before driving down my dangerous path ever further. Where was the fun in playing it safe? "So, do you have any other friends in here?"

The blond shook her head. "No, I'm afraid not," she replied calmly. "There just isn't anyone fun in here. But I wouldn't mind being friends with such a glowing person as yourself."

A shudder ran down my spine at the very notion. "Thanks but no thanks. I kinda make it a point to not be friends with crazy people." If she thought I was signing up for that, she only reaffirmed my opinion of her. Was this what the guard meant about her planning something?

Mami frowned, expressing disappointment with my decision. Understandably, I didn't exactly mind that at all. "Are you sure? I do get so lonely at times. I can promise that you'll have fun."

"Yep, I'm pretty sure," I countered, folding my arms across my chest.

A light sigh from the girl across from me at that point. "Your loss then. I do make the best cake or so I'm told. We could relax in my apartment watch the city, chat about various things, maybe watch a movie. Then a few bites and some tea, the best thing you'll ever eat before drifting off to a final sleep. A nice and peaceful end."

I stiffened as she took on a chilling demeanor to go with a near malevolent smile. "That's what I want for all my friends. You won't have to be scared or lonely. You'll be with someone who cares for you, and happy at your end."

An angry fire rose inside me, my fists clenching as I listened to all of that. This was so wrong, and I couldn't just let it pass me by. "Are you kidding me. That's how you treat all your friends? How can you call them that when you're killing them?!"

"Because I'm helping them," Mami shot back, her own temper growing. Luckily she was wearing the strait jacket, so I didn't have to worry abut that. "You should know this already. It was my mission."

I rolled my eyes, glaring ineffectively at her. "No, you haven't told me what kind of messed up delusions you think you're doing. I like my sanity, thank you very much."

The manic look diminished, though there still seemed to be a glimmer of it as Mami slumped in her seat. "My my, you're so mean Sayaka. That hurt my feelings."

I harrumphed, arms folded as I continued to glare at her. It had the same success as before though but I wasn't about to stop. Even if she ignored it, she deserved some sign that I was not amused. "Welp, too bad. Not my fault if it's the truth."

Mami sighed, her head bowing. For once, it seemed that I had gotten an advantage on her. How about that? "You really need to learn to be calm," she noted. "Too much stress can be bad for your health."

The only reason I had a problem with my stress was because I was talking to people like her, and there was no way that I was going to listen to any medical advice she gave me. While she might know what she was talking about, it was unlikely that she was really trying to help. That would be too easy.

"I'll keep that in mind," I answered sarcastically, and openly so. Who was really surprised by that anyway? It's not as if she was sincerely looking out for me and my well being.

Still she sat there and flashed me that smile that would otherwise have been heart warming, as if there was nothing wrong with the world. "Was there anything else you wanted to ask me?"Mood swings anyone?

It did allow me to take in a deep breath before I sighed, leaning back in my chair. I really had to stop letting her get to me. It wasn't as if she had any power in this situation beyond what I gave her. But with my nerves reined in, I could get back to the topic at hand. "Sure. Tell me more about Kyoko Sakura, would you."

This time around I got a different reaction to that question, to some semblance of surprise on my part. "No," she replied simply.

"Come on," I protested in an effort to get her to change her mind. "I didn't see you having a problem with it a moment ago. Go ahead, anything you want."

"No," she reiterated. I feel that her arms would have been folded in stubborn refusal were she able to do that action. But now I broke into a light grin at her reaction. Intuition said that this was important, and a journalist knew when to follow their gut.

So I followed mine, to whatever end might await there. I was at least sure that I would learn something, though it might not be useful. "Why not? The only way people are gonna know about her is if you tell me. What did she mean to you?"

That seemed to hit some switch inside her, triggering a...strong reaction. "No, No, no, no, no no no!" Her eyes wide as anger took hold of her visage, scary to look at even with their bonds. "I am NOT going to let you drag her name through the mud and turn her into a media spectacle."

Well, that was odd, to say the least. I quickly tried to deal with the damage, though I had a feeling that it was a bit late for that. Has to give it the effort. "Whoa, calm down there. Take it easy. I won't tell anyone else if you don't want me to, I just wanna know more about her."

Amazingly that didn't work, though her voice did die down. But the trembling and dark laughter didn't exactly inspire confidence. "You...I can't trust you. You never met her, never got to see her smile or laugh. You never know her or do things with her, parties, walks, and more. To you she's just a name and a face. Why should I tell you when you DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT."

Her gaze met mine, her breathing heavy, and I had to resist the urge to leap up and flee the rage directed at me. Even the guards watching seemed twitchy, which did little to reinforce my belief in my own safety. And I wasn't sure what I could say that could get her to calm down, which led to the opposite reaction. " You're right, I don't. But I've got a duty to the truth, and that's the whole truth. Now tell me."

I wasn't sure whether it had worked, but it quickly didn't matter as a man in a doctors coat approached. "My apologies Ms. Miki, but I''m afraid that I'm going to have to end this interview. It seems that Ms. Tomoe is having another episode."

"Alright," I agreed with a nod, letting my anger dissipate. That seemed like a smart decision, since it didn't look promising on me getting anything else from her while she looked about ready to jump across the table and try to rip my throat out with her teeth. Naturally, something I'd like to avoid if possible.

With two attendants to help the doctor hauled Mami to her feet, the blond struggling against them but failing to break free. "Let go of me doctor," she spat as she kept her wild eyes fixed upon me. "I have to make sure she doesn't do anything. I won't let her."

"Calm down Ms. Tomoe," the doctor repeated as they began to lead her away. "I will sedate you if I have to."

That brought some peace as Mami calmed down, even though it was apparent that she was only going along grudgingly. I guess sedation didn't agree with her or something. I rose from my seat at the same time, ready to leave.

Mami paused before she left the room, glancing back over her shoulder at me. "Oh, Sayaka, bring some tea next time would you? It's been so long since I've had some good tea to drink, I'm afraid it might drive me mad." And with that she was gone.

As I waited for a guard to get me, I dismissed that notion immediately from my mind. I was not about to bring her something that could be seen as a gift. At that point I wasn't even sure if institute regulations would allow it. Besides, I'd have to help her drink any tea brought, and I was not eager to put my fingers anywhere where bodily harm could be inflicted upon them. Admittedly it would be useful for gaining her trust, but that probably wasn't worth it.

My guard arrived immediately after that and we headed off together back towards the entrance. Not the end to a meeting I had ever witnessed, but oddly enough not the worst either. I had gotten some interesting things out of it that I'd have to pursue further. At this moment I had the opportunity to speak with the guard, and I did. "Well, I'd say that went well."

"That's why she doesn't get many visitors," the guard noted as he led the way, though I knew where to go now. "The people that actually do visit her don't tend to come back after the first time." To be honest, I had the feeling that that happened a lot here.

I nodded in understanding. "Okay. So what about her roommate, that Nagisa person?" I figured I might as well ask, since I had the opportunity. Details, you know?

The answer was one that I had been expecting. The guard seemed resigned rather than annoyed as he said it too, much to my relief. "She doesn't have a roommate. Tomoe just hallucinates one, like a lot of inmates here. Apparently hers is some sort of short albino kid." He shrugged. "You don't pay attention to that sort of thing after a while."

"Got it." At the time I wasn't sure if that told me anything beyond the fact that she was crazy, but it did provide some insight, since the kind of person she imagined up would be indicative of her mental state. But I fell silent as I arrived up front and was let out of the building.

Arriving back at my car, I sat down and took the moment to write down notes from the point where I had stopped taking them during the interview. I made sure to mention the reaction she had to Kyoko, underlining it at the same time. That was major. I just had to figure out how to look into it further.

At the same time I had to come up with another strategy to pursue my future discussions. Mami was right in that I would be back, but it wasn't going to be with any tea. And I was determined to make sure that the conversation went the way that I wanted this time. She wouldn't be messing with me again.

With plans whirling in my head, I started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. This sort of thing could wait for later. For now, it was time to get back to my normal life.


End file.
